"P-please don't… I cannot anymore…" her voice is soft lost in the wind as the storm rages on around her. Every time she closes her eyes she sees the same thing, death. Her hands claw at her ears and she rocks, back and forth, trying to rid her mind of the images. Images of things that have happened and things she fears will happen. Brown eyes stare in front of her unseeing and red as tears drip down her face. She joined the Survey Corps in hopes of helping, of doing some good in the world. For once her stomach doesn't beg for food, doesn't remind her that if she gets out of her hiding spot that there is food just waiting for her to steal it, to eat it. They won't go away, their faces forever frozen in horror in pain, they who never take her seriously. She hears the whispers and not so whispers. "Potato Girl." That's what they call her, not Sasha, not friend. Potato Girl because she couldn't fight back the constant throbbing in her stomach and stole a potato. True she could have chosen a better time to eat it but she was so very hungry. Food was scarce everywhere, even in villages where you could hunt because the hunter could easily become the hunted. They're not in training anymore, one would think that the others would act that way. A shiver runs down her spine as the wind changes directions, the rain that couldn't hit her now spraying her in the face. She'll get sick if she stays out longer but she needs to gather herself. She needs to replace her mask that's been chipped, cracked, stepped on. No one sees and that's what she wants. Even if she cannot take it anymore she wants the others to continue on. Connie, Jean, Armin, Krista, Ymir, Mikasa, Eren they all deserve so much. They deserve to be happy. She does too, she knows that, everyone deserves it but so few get it. Scrubbing hard at her eyes she crawls out from the three crates stacked just right to give her a place to hide. Lifting her face up she lets the rain soak her. She has a mask of happiness, a mask that keeps the others smiling. She's just Potato Girl, she's not serious about anything. Probably a few potatoes short of a salad. Comic relief. She doesn't have nightmares, she isn't affected by all the death.

"Maybe if I keep saying it, it'll become true," she whispers walking back to the girls barracks. An excuse at her lips she opens the door, ready to defend her choice of actions, I smelt something yummy coming from the mess hall, she's relieved to see everyone is asleep. Sometimes she wishes she had someone like Krista does, envies how Ymir has no problem wrapping her arms around the petite blond. Sometimes she envies Mikasa, so strong, so beautiful, so sure of everything and blessed with two people who would die for her. Slowly she strips out of her soaked clothing and into her sleep clothes. Morning will bring light but not joy, just another day. Just another day of hearing Potato Girl. But, she thinks, emit could be so much worse.